Voices in my room vce727

Did I just experience a hypnopompic hallucination? I don't recall having experienced this before. I was woken up by sounds of people talking in my bedroom. Three or two individuals, I don't recall what they were saying, only that they spoke without mirth, in somber tones. I called out, getting no reply. I woke up very, very distressed. 

And to think some people actually experience this frequently…. I am so sorry. That is totally messed up and frightening. 

Clown Wanted! short story, part one

The white van chugged up the sodden hill, water pouring down from the sky, dripping and spilling down from the trees. A utility van, former fleet vehicle for some corporation, its number and insignias having long  ago been replaced by the maniac bright colors of a business owned and solely operated by its current and only driver, Gerald Simmons, aka, Jolly Jerry the Birthday Clown!

He slowly yielded to the stop sign at the end of Whitby road. In front, water rushed down the far side of Milford road, coursing its way from Mount Vernon to his right down to the direction of Londonderry township to his left, where he was heading home.  He should have stuck with his decision to cancel on his last client on account of rain; Eight-year-old Kay's birthday party depended on the wide-open back yard for the event he arranged, it couldn't be held indoors, even if less than ten kids showed up. But her parents insisted their house, a twelve-foot wide trailer with a built-on living-room addition would suffice. So he tried, he really tried. ----

It wasn't until his flourish-gesture hit poor little hyperkinetic Billy square in the face that Mr. and Mrs. Sanders decided that yes, this party should be cancelled. They didn't yell, having acknowledged Billy's uncontrolled running having been the major contributor to the accident, but the anger, the you goddamn fool! sentiment was simmering underneath.

The honking from behind broke his reverie. After looking both ways he turned left. He should head straight home and set aside this whole incident for now. Just keep driving. However, willpower couldn't stop Gerald from looking into this one matter. He pulled over in front of the abandoned Bolten mansion on the right, letting the impatient motorist pass. Then he pulled out his phone.

The smiley JollyJerry foam casing didn't elevate his mood one bit. It usually did as it was often accompanied by the memories of children laughing at its appearance, adults chuckling at its clever design. It was one of his two phones he had, the one he used for and at his parties. It had a very small contact list and of course, no naughty pictures or videos, no questionable browsing history. Anything like that had nothing to do with children, thank you very much. He looked up Jolly Jerry the Birthday Clown on Google. Just as he half-expected, the proud parent of Kay Sanders had down-rated him a one-star, providing a stormy review he didn't want to read but glanced at, stopping at the word ...violently!! Oh fuck this!

Gerald's husband may or may not be understanding about this incident. Spence, middle-aged elementary-school principle will point out, again, his dislike of being the sole means of providing Jerry with clients. His budget had been a little short on advert spending of late with him pleading with his husband to reach out to his large sphere of contacts for potential clients. Gerald understood his resistance to help out with his business and love of performance in this was, but lately Spence's talking to him as if he were a wayward son instead of his spouse angered him. The thought of being treated like that drove him to slam his fist on the steering wheel. In doing do he inadvertently released his hold on his phone. It bounced off his left knee, landing on the floor. 

As he started reaching down he glanced to his right at the grey three-story Bolton house. Thoughts of entertaining a large group of children there at least brought a small grin to his face. It's been a long time since he performed before over a hundred children and child-hearted grownups. He sat up, still looking at the house. His dream of performing beyond Londonderry had started slipping away of late, he didn't know why. Not anymore. He's going to rekindle that dream, he promised the old ruined mansion...

Then visions of screams, terror and blood slammed through his head. He quickly shook away those thoughts, then regarded the mansion. He recalled the horrific event his parent said had occurred there before even they were born. The contradictory tales of what actually happened to that large family decades ago were never sorted out. No one wanted to even mention the Bolton place, not even out-of-towners could be interested in its history. Weird.

Not taking his eyes off Bolton, he opened the door to give himself space to reach down to the floor for his phone.

It wasn't until he felt the metal floor instead of his phone that he peeled his eyes away from that accursed place. He saw with shock that it had fallen from the door into the rushing water, its JollyJerry foam casing keeping it afloat.

"Mother"

I often call Easter, one of my cats Mother Easter, or just Mother because of my other cats being her children. This morning as I gave her all of my attention I thought of the spaceship Nostromo's computer named Mother from the Alien movie and its statement, "All other priorities rescinded."

How appropriate a cat would make that statement! I am your priority; All other priorities rescinded!

They only change ID's. Instead of killing themselves.

Woke up with hatred, anger. Rare. But I'm glad I don't drink cuz I feel a need to get plastered. As usual one of my cats is here to help me through this. 

The bullies that made my life a living hell in middle school. They don't ever go away, not completely. They just change identities when they storm my brain, as more recent figures in my life. All this money I never spent on alcohol; I should have enough to hire someone to beat the living shit out of some assholes that deserve it. 

How much does it cost to get drunk every week? Every month? Every year? I should be putting that money away.

Present moment. Live in the here and now. My Ladybug's demanding love and cuddles. Bye.

Felis Sillinus Inc

A brief vision, an image surfaced in my mind this morning. Nothing serious, obviously. It's of a small company run and staffed by my cats. Don't ask me what the company does, I have no idea!

Snowball Male, part Siamese. He's a technician working obsessively with examining a piece of equipment. Turns it over, bats it around at his workstation. If he's not doing that he's reading the specs and related info on his screen. Best not to disturb his obsessive/compulsive style. Once interrupted he might never return to his task.

Dude Male, black & white striped tabby. Big guy. He's most at home behind his desk overlooking the floor. He may or may not listen to anything being said but he loves barking orders. (meow-ing orders?) He's very terse with his commands as he keeps the ship afloat.

Ladybug Female, she's the quarterback, chasing leads, always on the hunt for new clients.

Easter Founder and CEO (and real-life mother of the aforementioned) I never know when she's going to make an appearance. When she does she's either in the background or she fully (and aggressively) engages the whole team. Occasionally she does strike out at someone who looks at her the wrong way but nobody cares when the confrontation is over. That's just how things are run. 

I have fond memories of five previous employees. Peepers, one of the best supervisors a company could ever want. Thingie, a gray and white proper gentleman at his desk handling all matters with grace. Graydee, sitting across from Thingie, with her own sweet style in helping clients. Menace, who's very busy running here and there. And lastly, Nemo, lowly office assistant who does the best he can in spite of health problems.
Easter first had Dude, Snowball and Ladybug. The next litter which I call Peepers and the Gang I eventually gave away, which was heartrending to me but necessary. I sometimes wish I could track them down, that there's a LinkedIn I can go to. I doubt Nemo's still around as sickly as he was. Snowbie passed away from kidney failure, cancer got Dude, so now I've got Easter and Ladybug.

If the company mission was to make and keep a particular male human alive and happy, I'd say Felis Sillinus Inc is and has been a great success.

21jul2020

Accomplishments depend on self-love. Entirely. 10jun2020

It seems to me that the accomplishments one makes in life is largely dependent on how much a person loves themselves. If you had to volunteer as a caregiver for someone you loathe, you're not motivated to perform beyond the basics of keeping that person alive. But if it's for someone you love, cherish and adore that's different. The daily trips to the park, the frequent trips to the beach, museum, clubs, whatever that person enjoys, plus all the materials they'd need to create art, music, a full workshop if they love to create whatever. There's going to be a lot of spectacular happiness and accomplishments coming out of that person because of the love and adoration of the caregiver.

I haven't done anything with my life. not really. Self-love was never a feature of my personality. No wonder depression has clouded my whole life. (it took much effort just to sit here and type). My cats however, wouldn't know that. I've given them the best quality of life I could afford (which isn't much). They've always had what they needed, with all the petting and playtimes a cat could want. I love them completely. But I need attention too. I have what I need for drawing, writing stories... It's just too much effort because it's for me. Just me, no one else.

The clouds are dark today. But I'll get through. I can always count on my cats to help me through. They are everything to me.

For those responsible for Covid-19

Lets all look at the fact that the same government officials responsible for the present pandemic are also the ones responsible for  SARS-CoV-1. The exotic-animal wet markets were long known to be petri dishes for the zoonotic creation of novel viruses yet they kept them open. The culinary tastes of the wealthy elite were more important than the health and well-being of the rest of the population.

Then the SARS outbreak of 2002-2003 made it dramatically clear this cannot stand. But rich people have their lobbyists, and the Chinese equivalent of them had bigger voices than those of reason and science.

So here we are with SARS-CoV-2. There's a law firm in Florida starting litigation against Bejing for this whole mess but I wanna go a step further.

Let's put them all in cages stacked on top of each other, the most senior officials at the bottom. Their toilet will be gravity. And they all have an excellent view of a made-for-them tv show called Cannibal Cooking With Crazy Conti or whatever (that it's pig meat and organs standing in for human isn't revealed) 

Okay. After empathy for the animal victims of wet markets has taken firm hold, graphics portraying the current pandemic situation will be shown, aides will come in with the paperwork for them to sign, then they can be let out, proceed to the World Court where Florida lawyers and many, many others will be waiting.

*sigh* I wish...